Descending
by Air Condition
Summary: Now, she daydreams about what she could have done differently to save him. But then she realizes that nothing she could have done would change anything. Hints of YXK, and NXK
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I lost my muse for a little while there with all the mayhem of college lately. But, I'll start writing again, hopefully!

This fic is going to be slightly tied in with my other story, Purgatory, but you don't need to read that to read this. This is just an expansion of one of those scenes into a story. (I'm going to change Purgatory a bit, actually, I didn't like the way I ended it.)

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><p>She thinks she could have saved him now, had she known what was happening. She dwells on it too much. She thinks every day through, wondering what she could have said to fix the things that had shattered in those few moments. She daydreams about watching his epiphany after she says just the right words, and watching him glue himself back together without doubting her for a second. And then she realizes that nothing she could have said would have helped, and daydreams about him following the same path he was destined to.<p>

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><p>Day 0:<p>

Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like days. She was paralyzed, the weight of Yahiko's body pinning her to the ground, though she could have pushed it off had she really tried. The statue had gone as quickly as it had appeared, but she still felt as if it was looming over her, taking the lives of so many in just moments. She could do nothing but stare as Nagato struggled to stand with the rods that had been forced into him.

He lost that fight quickly.

She didn't see the grin on his face before he fell forward, hitting the ground with a quiet _thump_. She saw him rise and fall with each shallow breath, and she knew he was still alive, though she felt no relief knowing that. That didn't change that he was still clearly injured beyond repair (though she didn't quite realize that at the time), nor did it change Yahiko's fate. So she sat, trembling, waiting to wake up from what she thought couldn't be reality.

She waited.

And waited.

And then the rain had drenched her just a bit too much, and her makeup ran into her eyes. She reached up to wipe it away, and as she wiped away the makeup she wiped away the illusion of hope that she had been clinging to. Finally she understood that she had to act. She felt guilt overcome her as she pushed Yahiko off her lap and back onto the ground, but it wasn't enough to stop her from running.

Even running felt slow considering the urgency of the situation. But, that couldn't be helped, and she ran all the way back to the others, begging for help as soon as they were in earshot. She wanted to go with the people who went to retrieve her two dearest friends, but the others held her back, telling her that they needed to help her. She didn't need help, she insisted. They didn't listen to her. They dragged her back into one of the empty houses they had commandeered, and sat her down.

She realized that she would get out of the house faster if she just cooperated. They moved so fast as they made sure to fix up every insignificant scratch on her, and she stared at the wall with a blank mind all the while. She didn't realize how long it took for them to fix her, despite how little pain she felt in the first place. By the time they let her out, the others had returned with Yahiko and Nagato, though neither of them were conscious when they arrived.

Nagato didn't wake up for a few hours.

Yahiko didn't wake up at all.

She wanted to be by Nagato's side when he awoke, but they wouldn't let her, no matter how much she pleaded. They should have known by then that having her there would have made their jobs much easier, but they didn't. She sat outside the house in the rain, and listened silently to the activity behind the doors.

After she strained her ears enough, she could hear Nagato _trying_ to yell at the medics. His voice was so weak that it hardly sounded intimidating. They talked back at him for a few minutes, insisting that they were going to help. Whatever they were doing must've hurt Nagato a lot, because he kept telling them to stop. Either that or he didn't want to be helped. She wasn't sure.

After a while, he stopped trying to scare them by yelling, and his already shaky voice deteriorated to what she could only guess was sobbing. She could barely make out his words (if they were words at all), and her head filled with all of the terrible things he could be saying. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, barely caring that she was starting to get cold.

She started shivering after a while. The men who guarded the entrance to the house told her that she should go inside some other house and get changed. She shook her head and ignored the temperature for as long as she could. It wasn't the cold that ended up bothering her. She started to tear up eventually, and what would usually just be a warm tear felt like a goddamn fire on her cheek before fading with the rest of the water falling down her face.

She was mad at herself for crying. Or rather, she was mad at herself for not crying earlier. Her crying seemed to be for all the wrong reasons. She was crying because she was mad at herself for not mourning Yahiko earlier. She was crying because she was mad at herself for not being sick over Nagato's pain. She was crying because her eyes stung because of the tears. She was crying because she was mad at herself for crying over such useless things.

She didn't like any of this failed logic.

The war in her mind suddenly ended when she heard something shatter inside the house. It sounded like glass, and the guards in front of the door rushed inside to see what was wrong. She took advantage of the break in security, and slipped in behind them.

What she saw inside the tent was a lot less gruesome than she expected it to be. At least, it was for a moment. There was broken glass on the floor and whatever was in it had spilled, but the label on the side proved that it was nothing dangerous. Just some water. The doctor and nurse stood a few feet away from Nagato's bed, the nurse's hands still glowing with healing chakra. They were staring at the guards, who showed no interest in helping.

Her eyes quickly moved from the broken glass to Nagato's bed, where he had been put. She made an involuntary sound at the sight of his emaciated body, unable to take her eyes off his ribs. He turned his head to look at her, and his eyes sucked her in until she looked up at his face. He looked so angry, and for just a second she feared for her life.

But he didn't intend to hurt her. He never did. He turned back to everyone else in the room, and somehow gathered the strength to speak.

"All of you… Get the _fuck _out."

It was quiet, but the threat was still there. Silently, everyone scurried out of the house, and she remained still, waiting for him to speak again. He didn't, though. He remained still and stared at the wall for a minute before waving her closer. She walked so slowly; it felt like an eternity before she reached him. She stood beside his bed and waited yet again. When he didn't make a move, she reached out to touch his arm, pausing before she brushed his skin. He looked as if he would break at even the slightest touch. But, she ran a finger along his arm anyway, just to prove to herself that he was still there.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked, feeling that he was even colder than she was.

"Yes."

"What happened to your shirt? And your cloak?"

"The medics cut them off."

"…Cut?" She asked. She realized a moment later that it would have been difficult to remove his clothes with the rods in his back. He nodded toward the table, where his shirt and cloak were lying, both with the sleeves removed, along with a large hole in the back.

"They tried to take one of the rods out, too," he added.

She could see that didn't go so well, since all of the rods were still in place.

"Why didn't they?"

"I'd bleed to death."

The thought of that made her stomach hurt. One too many friends had already died that day. She reached up to touch one of the rods, hesitating when Nagato seemed to shrink away from her hand. She didn't dare to push or pull the rods, or even try to rest her hand on them. She put a few of her fingers against one of the smallest rods, and felt it vibrate. She couldn't tell if it was the rod itself, or Nagato. He seemed to sigh with relief when he realized she wasn't trying to alter the rods somehow.

"Do they hurt?"

"Of course they hurt!" He snapped, glaring at her.

In hindsight, that was a really stupid question. She remained silent and didn't react to his outburst. She looked closer at the rest of his back. It was covered in scratches and bruises and other little injuries. She started to wish she had actually learned some medical ninjutsu earlier. Maybe she could help him. Since that wasn't an option, the next best thing was…

"Maybe you should let one of the nurses fix some of these," She suggested.

"No. They already tried that, they just ended up making things worse."

"How could they possibly make things worse?"

"They're clumsy," He said, "They just ended up 'accidentally' nudging the rods."

"Maybe you could get a different nurse to—"

"No."

"Okay."

She backed off, unaccustomed to arguing with Nagato. He reached out to touch her cloak, and finally noticed that she was soaking wet.

"What happened to _your_ clothes?" He asked.

"I was out in the rain."

"You didn't go inside somewhere?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She shrugged, truly at a loss for an answer. She wasn't sure why she hadn't gone inside. Though, that seemed to be a good thing, since she wouldn't have gotten inside to see him if she had gone somewhere else.

"You should get changed."

"I don't have a change of clothes here... All of them were going to be washed." She told him.

He paused for a moment, and then extended his hand to one of their backpacks. She realized he was trying to use his Shinra Tensei to pull something out. The bag almost seemed to explode, and he began to choke, spitting blood on the sheets.

"Nagato, I could've gotten it myself!" She yelled, on the verge of tears again.

"I'm fine." He lied, wiping the blood from his lip. "You can use my clothes, they're dry."

She got up after a few seconds, and dropped her old cloak to the floor. Nobody was going to care where she put her things or where she got changed; it was, after all, the house that the three of them lived in while they were in this area. It was close enough to being their own. She wanted to go to a different room to get changed, but privacy wasn't worth leaving him alone for even just a moment. He looked off to the side while she shed her clothes, and took the ruined origami flower out of her hair. She was thankful for his courtesy, and attempted to get reasonably dry with a towel. Her hair seemed to just soak her as soon as she was done.

She did manage to stop her hair from dripping after a few minutes. It felt a little more comfortable after she was dry, though she didn't quite feel 'warm' yet. She took his extra cloak and a pair of pants, knowing that it would be pointless to take an entire outfit. His clothes were too big for her, and she had to hold the pants to keep them up. She sat back on his bed, and he looked at her again. He seemed much calmer now, she noticed, but she somehow thought that was a bad thing. He pulled his fingers through her hair, which was rather knotted after towel-drying it. She was surprised he was even strong enough to do that.

Despite the fact that he had clearly been hurt more than she had, he was the first to speak again.

"We should sleep."

She was amazed he was able to think of such a logical thing in this situation, but she knew that he was right. But she didn't want to leave him alone, and she left for just a second to drag a large, comfy chair out of the next room. He saw her having just a bit of trouble pushing it, and he reached out to help her. She looked up and yelled at him, angry that he'd try to strain himself in that condition. He put his hand back down and looked away from her, bothered by her outburst.

She apologized as she curled up in the chair, but he didn't respond to her. She didn't know what to do, so instead she just said 'goodnight', however stupid that sounded. He nodded while she sent a sheet of paper to shut off the one light that filled the room.

The room went black, and she fell asleep faster than she should have.

She woke up late in the night, with a lost sense of time and reality, and heard him whimpering beside her. Her thoughts clouded and stuck in a dream, she did nothing but listen. The soft sounds should have been distressing, but they only served to lull her back to sleep.

She dreamt of Yahiko, blissfully unaware of Nagato's pain as he sat awake beside her.

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><p><em>She wishes it would have played out differently. She wishes that, instead of sitting helplessly as the Gedo statue crawled from the ground to steal the last of her friend's sanity, she would have gotten up and stopped Nagato from summoning it. He'd fight her grasp for a moment, but then stop and realize she was there. And then he'd come back to his sanity, and still have triumphed over Hanzo's army without so much pain.<em>

_She wishes she had gotten up after the statue vanished, and caught him before he fell to the ground._

_She wished she had understood the urgency of the situation when she drifted awake in the night and heard him struggling with such pain. She wishes she had gone closer to him and comforted him until he fell asleep himself, and perhaps he would have awoken with his mind cleared and the path ahead clear to him. _

_But she did none of those things, and so he fell deeper._

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><p>AN: More of this coming soon.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oh man I need to update some of my other stuff soon, don't I? Ah, well, here's more of this, though.

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><p>Day 1:<p>

She didn't know how she slept so well the previous night. The morning came slowly, it seemed, and she wondered how long the night was for Nagato if she felt that way while managing to sleep.

It was not a pretty sight that she woke up to.

She almost screamed, but years of being taught not to stopped her, so she covered her mouth and barely a sound made its way out. She did not linger long, and instead knelt beside his bed. As much as she wanted to get help, she knew that doing so before she knew his thoughts would only serve to make things worse.

She pushed the hair from his face and saw the way he was staring into nothing with dilated eyes that did not move to meet hers. She could not see the rest of his face, as it was covered behind the thick pillow he was clutching so tightly to support himself. It was stained red with his blood, as were his hands and the sheets beneath him.

She reached so slowly for the blanket that covered the rest of his mangled body, and pushed them away. It was there that she found the source of the blood. She took a long look at his legs, where the bandages had been torn away, leaving the burned flesh exposed and oozing, and she wondered how long he had been like this. At that moment, she knew that his thoughts didn't matter to her as much as his health did. She left to get help, and once she did she was once again banned from his room until they finished with him.

Waiting became too stressful, and she washed herself to pass the time, knowing that she would have to bathe eventually, anyway. Once again the water pounding against her cleared her thoughts, and let grief flood her until she cried. She lost track of time and remained there until the water ran cold before recomposing herself. She came out to find that her clothes had been washed and left on the sink. She was happy she could wear her own clothes again.

By the time she made her way back to Nagato's room, all but a quiet nurse had left him alone again. She smiled at the woman out of reflex, but the woman only stared back at her with intense sorrow before leaving without so much as a goodbye.

When she looked back at Nagato, she saw that they had been considerate enough to bring her a small cot so she could lie down when she wanted to. It was just a few feet from Nagato's bed, but she pushed it closer anyway until there was no space between them. She crawled onto it and came close to him to examine what they had done, and she saw that they had changed the bandages on his legs, and changed the sheets. Everything was clean and white, except for him, and she wondered if they were afraid to try and touch him more than they had to.

She looked him in the eye a when she was done, and this time he looked back, however slowly. His eyes were heavy and so was everything else. She thought they drugged him, and she was thankful for that. She asked him if he needed anything, but his only answer was an ambiguous grunt. She didn't know what to make of that, and hoped his answer was 'no', because she didn't know what she could do for him, anyway. The only thing she could think of was to help him sleep.

She put her hands on his face and led him down until he was spread across both of their beds on his side, finally lying down for the first time since they had come home. He groaned from the stress of changing positions, but didn't complain. She pulled the blanket up over him; careful to pull it just far enough so it wouldn't touch his back. She sat on the corner of the bed, and ran her hands through his hair. It was knotted and filthy, but she could do nothing about it for the moment. He tried to say something to her, but he was so far gone that the words never quite formed, and his message was lost to her. She waited for him to try again, but he never did.

After staring at a blank wall for barely a minute, she realized again that she was tired, despite having just gotten up. Curling up on what little space was left on the two beds, she faced him and for a moment they just stared at each other, speechless. She knew he wouldn't be awake for long with the drugs that were obviously influencing him, and she was right. She followed him soon after.

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><p>"You have to eat something."<p>

That was the third time she had told him that in the span of an hour. He wasn't all there, but whatever they had given him had worn off considerably, and he was capable of thinking again. Again, he gave her the same answer.

"I'm not hungry."

She couldn't understand how that was possible. She had three meals by then, and he had eaten nothing but the medicine they forced into him. Ever since he had grown into his teens, he had eaten a lot, as did Yahiko. Both of them would finish their food before she had even made a dent, and then they would both sit quietly and wait for her to eat what she could. She rarely finished her whole plate. When she was done, she'd push it away from her, and the two of them would eat what she couldn't in a matter of minutes. Even after that, they could eat more if there was any left, though there hardly ever was.

And now, here he was with a full plate sitting in front of him, completely untouched.

"Please?"

It seemed silly to say that. After a few more long minutes of both of them staring at a plate that would only grow colder, she tried to force feed him. Before she could get too close, he grabbed her arm and gave her a look that signaled that she was doing something unacceptable. He would _not _be humiliated like that.

But, he must have realized how much it bothered her, because he finally listened. After she went back to her seat, he did eat, though it wasn't much. What he didn't finish, she tried to eat. Most of it ended up going to waste.

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><p>It got dark faster than usual that night. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the better part of the day, because no matter how much he slept, he was never rested. They had given him another dose at some point, though she wasn't sure how long ago it was. All she knew was that he was calm, but his mind was no longer numb. She didn't realize how fast the rest would fade from his system. She didn't realize how quickly he'd lose his mind again in the pitch black room, with nothing but silence surrounding them.<p>

"You must hate me."

He sounded so calm when he said it. As if it wasn't a concern.

"I couldn't hate you."

"Yahiko meant more to you than I ever did."

"No."

She told him that he was wrong, but she could shake the feeling that what he said was the truth.

"I should have died."

She didn't reply to that, because just a tiny part of her wished it were true, even though she pretended to ignore that nagging suggestion in the back of her mind. She only moved closer to him until she could touch his arm so he didn't feel quite so alone. He grabbed her sleeve with all the force he could, but she pulled her arm away for just a second before she pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, so careful not to brush the rods. She held on to him as tight as she could without hurting him, and she felt him start to shake.

It hurt when he pushed her off. He put his hand on her stomach and forced her away until she wasn't touching him anymore, but his hand suddenly gripped her shirt again and he drew closer until he collapsed onto her. Curled almost into a fetal position, but he wasn't quite capable of that, he rested on her chest and both of his hands tangled into the fabric of her clothes until she couldn't get away if she wanted to.

"_Don't leave me."_

She never would, but no matter how many times she told him that he wouldn't believe her, and he'd just repeat it again until he was begging her not to leave, clinging to her so tightly as if she'd slip away like Yahiko did. She was begging him to listen to her and understand that she wasn't going to abandon him, but neither of them ever got through to the other, and they just repeated themselves until the darkness finally seemed to overcome him and he finally lost himself to sleep.

He slept that night.

She did not.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Mmkay, I'll update some other stuff soon, too. This has just been nagging me for a while, though.

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><p>Day 4:<p>

They were nothing without Yahiko. Whatever helpful insight they had seemed to have vanished with him, and while everyone else was still capable of thinking for themselves, they were too scared or sorry to bother their two living leaders with talk of war.

Perhaps they should have, as the enemy was still on the move. While Nagato had managed to take out a large chunk of the army with his technique, there were more of them, and they were still dangerous. The attacked without so much as a second thought and the two of them could do nothing but flee. A few stayed behind to hold off the attackers, and the rest set out to find safety.

It was unfortunate that they had to leave with Nagato in such a condition. He couldn't walk, and so one of their allies carried him. That was still excruciatingly painful and she could tell it was hard for him not to accidently injure someone with some accidental burst.

However, his pain only got worse after one sorry soul managed to catch up to them and lay just a single hand on her. She could have handled it herself, she knows, but Nagato never gave her the chance. She made just the quietest sound of surprise when the man appeared from seemingly nowhere and touched her shoulder, and yet everyone who was there with her turned to defend her. Before they could act, Nagato forced himself off his carrier's back and sent a powerful blast toward the enemy, knocking him down. In the process Nagato himself collapsed, feeling the pain return to his legs even more than it had before, and he fell to the floor screaming, though she wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the raw rage he felt. He scared her more than the attacker, but she would never tell him that.

While it was obvious that the poor man was scared beyond reason, Nagato wouldn't let him get away. Just as he got up and began to scramble in the opposite direction, her friend forced himself up onto his elbows and hurled a single kunai with such perfect accuracy to strike the man right at the base of his head, and everyone watched him die without saying a word.

Between his sudden kill and his broken, incoherent screaming, nobody but her dared to try and lift him up again. She thinks maybe he was crying yet again, but she couldn't tell with the downpour drenching his face.

He grabbed her arm quite tightly when she knelt down to try and help him up, and he told her that she was never going to be hurt again. Not after his last failure. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, and that he hadn't failed. But this wasn't the place or the time, and so she remained silent and instead just stayed on her knees and waited for him to calm down enough to continue their search for shelter.

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><p>It wasn't as if they had been blindly wandering. The group had quite a few places scoped out in case of an emergency like this, and so they reached another small abandoned area in a reasonable amount of time, though it took a bit longer than they thought it would after Nagato's outburst.<p>

Their first priority was to get him settled again, but that proved to be just a bit more complicated than anticipated. After finding an appropriate bed, they dragged it down to the larger, open main room of the rather small dwelling, as he couldn't go up or down stairs. They found a second one for her and set it up like they had at the last house. However, both of them were still soaking wet, and it was obvious that Nagato was cold, though he never mentioned it. It was also quite obvious that the others feared for their lives when they mentioned that they should probably try to dry him off. He made no move to tell them his thoughts, but she told them to go.

Yet, scared as they were, they could not leave their leaders completely alone without doing _something _for fireplace seemed to be the only thing they could use to help in the long run, and so they used some of the wood the previous owners had left behind, and lit up a small fire.

As the others left, she led him down onto her bed, leaving his clean and dry for when he was in just slightly better shape.

She threw her cloak off into a corner, and then turned to him, though he looked confused.

"You're not getting changed first?" he asked her.

"…No?"

He shook his head at her answer, not understanding why she'd take care of him when it was obvious that she was quite uncomfortable herself. She always did that, and it bothered him.

"Go change first."

As much as she protested and insisted that she could wait, he wouldn't let her touch him until she agreed. She did so quickly, grabbing her dry clothes and a towel from her bag and just slipping into the next room for a moment to swap her outfit. Despite being dry and having new clothes, it was still quite cold in the house as they waited for the fire to grow. She hadn't noticed before, or maybe it was recent, but when she got back to him he was shaking. She sat next to him and put the towel down in her lap, staring to see if he had anything to say. He didn't, apparently, as he just continued staring at the small flame.

While she was cold herself, he felt like ice when she ran her fingers across his arm. She wanted to stand behind him and rub him down for the friction heat, like Yahiko did for her every now and again, but she had a feeling that'd break him in half. She picked the towel up instead and ran it across his arm slowly to dry the rainwater that still clung to his skin.

Despite the fact that the rain had acted like some sort of shower to him, he was still rather filthy. The towel was tinted some sick color by the time she was finished drying off his torso, and he was still cold. This wasn't doing him much good.

That's when she got a bit bold, though not bold enough to say exactly what she was thinking.

"Do you want me to get you some hot water or something? To warm you up?"

He didn't react at first; he just sat as if he was completely indifferent to the idea. But then he tried to shrug, and it hurt him. The way his muscles moved pulled the rods, and some horrible sound came from his throat as he froze, trying to keep from tearing himself apart.

"_Fine!"_

He spat out, unable to say absolutely anything else. But now it was her that was sitting frozen in her seat, hands outstretched to help him, but not touching in fear of hurting him more.

"_Go!"_

She jumped up as soon as he said that, knowing it would be better to stay with him, but not wanting to disobey his wishes.

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><p>It took him a while to stop shuddering from the pain. She sat on the chair across from him until she did, because every time she tried to get closer, he'd give her a look that told her very clearly to stay back. She knew it was just because he feared being hurt more, but it was just as painful for her to be rejected like that.<p>

When he finally did calm down, though, the room had warmed up. The fire behind her was roaring, and the heat would have felt wonderful if she wasn't so worried. For now, she hardly noticed it.

"Are you okay?"

It had felt like they were sitting in silence for quite some time, and her voice sounded loud as it broke that. He looked annoyed at her question, as it should've been quite clear to anyone that passed that he was most certainly _not_ okay in any way, shape, or form. However, he knew she didn't mean to offend him, and so he just looked back down at the floor.

"I'm okay."

"Do you still want this?" she asked, looking down at the hot water she had managed to get from the kitchen tap. It was rather crude, she thought, being put in a cooking pot, but it's not as if she had many places to put it. The water had cooled a little bit, leaving it at a very cozy temperature.

"Yes."

She brought it to him, and he seemed quite pleased (though nobody would really be able to tell if they weren't looking for it.) He plunged his hands into it and immediately he hissed, his skin too cold for the water. She knew it hurt him but he didn't seem to want to take them out, needing the heat too badly. After he had gotten used to it, or maybe his hands had just gone numb, he pulled his hands out fast enough to pull some water out with them, and rubbed it across his arms. He still sounded as if it hurt him, but she knew it had to be doing more good than harm.

Deciding his way of doing things was quite inefficient, she dipped the towel into the pot as soon as he removed his hands again, and then forced it against his chest. He moaned, clutching her wrist as if she were planning to take away the towel.

It didn't take long for the heat to sink into him, and while he was still cold, he seemed to feel a lot better. He finally took the towel for himself, keeping it there to prevent the heat from escaping. Not wanting to take it away from him, she went and picked up another, smaller one. She wet it, but didn't soak it, before wiping it across his forehead. He seemed too dazed or tried to react to it, so she just continued wiping down his face, before moving onto his neck, and then across his shoulders. He finally seemed to notice what she was doing once she started wiping down his arms.

"What are you doing?"

There was just a hint of annoyance in his voice, and for once she didn't care. She didn't even give him an answer this time, knowing he'd fight her, as he had been the entire time. She shouldn't have expected things to be different, as he did it once again.

"I can do it myself," he told her, grabbing her hand to take the towel from her. Finally she felt strong enough to defy him, knowing that, this time, she was doing something for him that he couldn't possibly do better himself.

"No, you _can't_," she retorted, feeling guilty as soon as she heard the harshness in her words. He stared down at her with anger in his eyes, but she stared back with the same strength, refusing to back down this time. After a few seconds, she broke eye contact and just continued against his wishes.

She felt his eyes dig holes in her skin as she continued; only getting stronger the further. At first, she kept herself strong telling herself it was the right thing. That didn't last long. It began to deteriorate as she realized how unusual it was for him to look at her this way, with such malice. He had never looked at her that way. He had rarely looked at _anyone_ that way, except for a few of their enemies who had managed to find his weaknesses. And now, she was the one under his gaze.

She didn't go any lower than his hips. She did what she could without getting _too_ bold, or disturbing the wrappings on his legs. When she was finally finished, she looked up only to find his eyes set on her with the most powerful aura of hatred she had ever felt. She knew he had been glaring at her, but she still wasn't ready to see that look on his face. She stared back, fear finally showing in her features. His jaw was locked, he was shaking, and she almost expected him to hit her, no matter how much she knew he wouldn't dare to hurt her. He pushed her away, slowly but forcefully, and she backed away without fighting.

As soon as she was as far away as he could force her, he pulled his hand back. She didn't dare try to move closer again. She watched him grip the sheets of the bed and stare at the floor, suddenly in his own world. She didn't know what he was doing until it was too late.

Suddenly, before she could even react, he was on his feet. He had practically flung himself off the bed. He stumbled, unable to support himself, and then crashed into the wall. He sank halfway to his knees before catching a nearby shelf and forcing himself up again. He clung to it, struggling to stay upright.

"_Nagato!"_

She didn't mean to sound so angry, but she just couldn't help it. She moved toward him and grabbed his arm, trying to hold him up, too. He stayed there for a moment before yanking himself away from her. He stumbled again and once again his legs failed him. She heard him yell as he hit the floor. She rushed forward again and crouched down, reaching out to him.

"Nagato, what- why?"

She still had a hint of anger in her voice, but she tried to sound sympathetic. Why was he doing this to himself? Why had he so suddenly thrown himself off the bed they had set up for him?

He pushed himself up onto his arms, shaking. She wondered if he had just caused himself even more pain. She reached down and gently placed her hand on the back of his head, trying to be comforting in any way possible.

All it did was upset him more.

He reached up and swatted her hand away, falling onto his side as soon as he took his hand off the ground. He stayed there, shaking his head.

"_I don't need you!" _He finally spat out.

She stared at him in disbelief. Where had _that_ come from? It took a few seconds to fully sink in, but she still couldn't comprehend it. Why would he say such a thing? He had always loved her company, and Yahiko's, too. They had been a team. Now he wanted to be alone?

"_I don't need you."_

It was quieter this time, almost a whisper. She pulled her hand back, staring him dead in the eye. He wouldn't look back at her. He stared at some faraway spot on the wall, instead. She waited to see if he would speak again. She didn't know what she wanted him to say, exactly. She didn't want an apology. She didn't want him to elaborate. She didn't want him to say it again.

Whatever he said, it wouldn't be okay. She finally decided she really didn't want him to speak again. It wasn't just what he had just said. It was e_verything_ he had said lately. Everything that came out of his mouth just cut her deeper. She rose from the ground and headed for the door, leaving him on the floor. She had only taken a few steps before he noticed.

"…Konan?"

She ignored him and continued. She heard him shift behind her, but didn't turn to look at him.

"Where are you going, Konan?"

She barely had an idea where she was going, though at that moment she decided she was going to get one of the medic-nin.

"Don't leave!"

She quickly told him she'd be right back. It didn't seem to calm him.

"_You can't leave me! Not you, too!"_

Finally she stopped and turned to look at him. He had pulled himself up onto his arms again, and looked terrified. The sight of it struck her, but her weariness from not sleeping recently kept her judgment hazy. She didn't know what she was feeling. She felt sorry for him, and yet she felt detached. She wanted to help him, but another part just whispered his previous words to her again. She turned back to the door and once again told him she'd be back soon.

He stopped begging after that. He stayed where he was and watched her leave. She managed to find the medics quite quickly, in a nearby tent. She just vaguely told them the situation. They left to help him, and she didn't follow. She stayed in that tent, which was now empty. She sat herself in one of the chairs, and rested her head on the table.

All she could hear were Nagato's words. He didn't need her. It was a lie, she knew, but it just struck her so hard. She was tired. She didn't feel well. Her exhaustion just made her feel worse, and her emotions ran wild without her stable mind to control them. Everything she was upset about suddenly just flooded her. Her eyes misted before tears started rolling down her face.

She didn't cry for long. She didn't cry hard. She shut her eyes to calm herself, and sleep began to overtake her. She forced herself to stay awake, and so she was stuck in some unreal half-asleep daze for what felt like hours. She wasn't sure how long she really stayed like that.

Whenever the medics got back was when she woke up again. They came in and simply told her that he was fine. "Fine" was a pretty loose word, really, but it wasn't like he was any worse than before. She wanted to stay in the tent longer, almost afraid to go back and see Nagato. Was he mad at her, now? Did he even want her there?

Did it really matter?

She still had to go back sometime. As nervous as she was, she knew that he _did_ need her, even if he told her otherwise. She didn't even thank those who had helped him. She rose from her seat and walked back outside. It was darker outside than it had been earlier. She wondered how late it was. She couldn't tell, with all the clouds covering the sky. She supposed it didn't matter. It seemed late enough to go to bed, which was really the only thing she wanted to do at that moment.

She walked back into the house slowly. She tried to be quiet, but even so the floor squeaked beneath her, anyway. When she turned the corner to Nagato's room again, he hardly looked up at her. He was heavily drugged yet again, and it seemed he could barely recognize her presence. Feeling a bit safer that way, she came and sat next to him again. It seemed that the medics had taken the liberty of changing the bed sheets, too. She came and sat on the bed next to his, and pulled him into her.

He didn't resist, to her surprise. Even drugged, his earlier outburst made her think he'd probably pull away from her yet again. But, he didn't, and instead just rested his head against her chest. He tried to say something, but yet again it seemed he was too out of it to really form a sentence. She ran her hand through his hair and told him to go to sleep. It might not have been her instructions that got to him, but either way it didn't take him long. She followed close behind him, already half-asleep from her stay in the tent.

* * *

><p>It seemed that she'd finally get some sleep that night. She figured whatever they had given him would keep him out at least until morning.<p>

Yes, that's what she thought.

It wasn't as if she had been sleeping well lately, so it didn't seem odd to her when she awoke in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason. Nagato was no longer pressed against her, and so she assumed he just moved into some other position to sleep. However, she discovered that she was wrong as soon as she turned to look for him.

While he had indeed moved off her, he was certainly awake. He was sitting on his heels, facing her. She could barely make out his face with the dim light coming from outside. His eyes, however, she could see perfectly. They were clouded with tears, and the Rinnegan spun wildly within them. She reached for him and asked him what was wrong, but he caught her wrist before she could touch him.

"_Sorry."_

She shook her head and told him it was okay. She wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but it could wait until morning, for sure. He gave her a sad smile and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. She glanced up, too, but it didn't seem like he was looking at anything. When she looked back down at him, she saw something else shining in the light. It took her a minute to realize it was a kunai that was pressed against the side of his neck.

"What are you doing?" She asked him quietly.

"Leaving."

She didn't want to think he'd give up so easily. Where had he even gotten the kunai? When had he picked it up? Really, that didn't matter, but it was still a question she had. She reached forward and snatched it from him. It was surprisingly easy; he didn't really struggle to keep it. He let go of her wrist when she took it, and then put his hands down.

"That'd be selfish of me, wouldn't it?" He asked her.

She nodded. She wasn't really sure it was the 'selfish' aspect she was bothered by, but if that was going to stop him from doing it, she'd accept it. He reached out to hug her, and she came into him. They stayed like that for some time, pressed together. She felt his hand slide down her arm and cup over her hand, but she had to drop the kunai to make room for him. It fell almost silently onto the bed, and the cold steel was replaced by his shockingly warm skin.

"_I'm so sorry, Konan."_

"_Me too."_

She started to pull away from him, but before she could pull too far away, his lips crashed against her own, freezing her in place. She made some squeak of disapproval, but she just couldn't bring herself to pull away from him. She leaned back into him and returned it, instead.

It was wrong, she knew. She never loved him like she did Yahiko, and yet everything else felt so wrong in the world that it made this feel right. She wasn't looking for Nagato to replace Yahiko, but it seemed like this was his forgiveness for upsetting him before, though she could never put her finger on exactly what she had done wrong. She wanted it to stay this way, where he wasn't mad at her. Where he _did_ need her. She wanted to feel as if someone did. If they didn't, why should she exist?

He broke it off before she did. He kept his forehead pressed against hers, and held her there. She couldn't move back, though she didn't want to in the first place. Or at least she didn't until she felt something cold touch her neck.

"What if we both leave, then?" he whispered.

"…What?"

"We can both go. We can both leave this place and see Yahiko again. We won't get hurt anymore, right? We don't have to suffer anymore."

She pushed her hands against his chest to try and get away, but for someone who was so injured, he was surprisingly strong. He held her there no matter how hard she pushed, leaving her without a lot of options. She jabbed her hand against his neck until she heard him choke. He didn't back off even then. She didn't like doing this, but at the same time, it wasn't as if she had a choice. She pushed harder until he backed off of her. He coughed a few times, and she took that time to try and stand up.

Yet, she couldn't. He grabbed her before she got on her feet and pushed her down on her back. He put his hand on her neck like she had done, pinning her to the bed, and then sat down on her legs.

"Why won't you come with me, Konan?"

She could see he still had the kunai gripped firmly in his free hand. He raised it above his head, intending to plunge it down into her once he got his answer.

"Don't you want to see him again?"

She did. She'd give the world to see Yahiko again. But this wasn't the answer. She pushed her hands against his shoulders to try and get him off, but he didn't move. Her hand slipped a second later and slammed into one of the rods in his back. She didn't intend to hurt him, but she did. He froze, his face going from some sick rage to absolute terror. She felt something hit her face, and when she wiped it off on her hand, she saw that it was his blood. It scared her to think he had made him bleed.

He fell to the side, screaming. She rolled out from under him and stood up. She could see that she had shifted the rod ever so slightly downward, reopening the wound. It was bleeding more than she thought it would. She grabbed the kunai from his now open hand, and threw it across the room where he couldn't get to it. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to scream and tell him that what he had just done was wrong. She wanted to scold him like a child, but the pain he felt was sure to block out anything she said to him.

She stood at the foot of the bed instead, and watched him shake. He stopped yelling after a few seconds when he regained control of himself. The bleeding didn't take long to stop, either. He didn't move again after that. Even when she asked him a question, he didn't respond. She took one of the blankets on the bed and moved over to the chair across the room. She wasn't sure if he still wanted her to stay with him in the beds, but she didn't care.

After that, there was no way she was staying within his reach if she was going to be unconscious.


End file.
